74
Although Aimée and I never lacked any necessities, thanks to Pierre-André’s generosity, I asked Manon to help me find a place. Her sister Louise had been a lace maker, but lace was no longer in fashion. Men no longer wore any. Even the ladies who could afford it did not want to make themselves conspicuous by flaunting such an aristocratic ornament. Louise had accepted a place as a dressmaker for the Théâtre du Marais.
“Imagine, My Lady,” she told me while I was visiting Manon in her lodgings, “having to take such work! I never thought I would stoop so low. A theatre is no place for decent people. All actors are denied a Christian funeral.”
“Not anymore. I am sure a sworn priest would give the last rites to any person, even an actor or actress, who would request them.”
“That’s what is wrong nowadays, Madam. Nobody respects anything. Thank Heaven, I’ll be rid of the theatre in a week. I gave my notice as soon as I found another place with the widow of a surgeon.”
“Does that mean that your place as a dressmaker is vacant?”
“I believe so. But you wouldn’t do anything like that, My Lady, I hope.”
“Oh, I would, Louise. I would be grateful for any respectable work that came my way.”
I had to insist long and hard before Louise agreed to introduce me to Citizen Granger, the manager of the Théâtre du Marais. That establishment could hardly be counted among the finest of its kind in Paris. It had achieved a measure of fame the prior year by featuring Robert the Republican, a play in which Princess Theresa, young and beautiful, was held prisoner in a tower, while the eponymous Robert, a drunkard and an illiterate brute, was presiding over a “tribunal of blood,” before which the supporters of the Princess were dragged. The people of Francovia, the country where those events took place, eventually freed Theresa, slaughtered Robert and restored her father, good King Ludovic, to his throne.
Needless to say, Robert the Republican did not meet with popular acclaim. It was booed during its premiere and failed to survive its second representation. A crowd of sans-culottes from the nearby Faubourg Saint-Antoine stormed the theatre, destroyed all the seats and threatened to string the Princess, along with King Ludovic, from a lamppost.
The theatre had closed for a few days. Under its new management, its repertoire was limited to romances between shepherds and shepherdesses, set in idyllic villages. The plays were now titled Lisbeth’s Cottage, The Lost Clog, and Virtue Rewarded.
Granger, the manager, barely glanced at the samples of my handiwork I had brought with me. “I am sure,” he said, “that a comely young citizen like you cannot fail to be a good seamstress. You are not a noblewoman, at least?”
“Of course not, Citizen Granger.” I now lied with ease.
“Good. We do not need any more trouble with the authorities. You see, we already have a ci-devant Marquis as a prompter. He is a good patriot, and all that, but I don’t want it said that the Théâtre du Marais is a den of aristocracy.”
“I am no aristocrat, Citizen Granger. On the contrary, I received a Civic Certificate from my Section.” I reached into my pocket and handed him the precious sheet of paper. He perused it and returned it to me.
“Everything seems in order, then. Can you start next week, when Citizen Picard is leaving us?”
“I would be grateful, Citizen. Would you mind if I brought my little girl along to help me? She is very quiet. I promise that she will not be in anyone’s way.”
He accepted, and I was introduced to the troupe. One of the lead actresses was Charlotte Tibaud, who had been Princess Theresa in the ill-fated Robert the Republican. I had no trouble recognizing in Charlotte the young woman I had seen in the company of Pierre-André in the riverside guinguette before the Revolution. Her hair was no longer a fiery red, but had turned blonde. This colour, I suppose, gave her the virginal allure required for her repertoire. It was no less difficult to imagine her as an ingénue than as royalty, but what she lacked in talent was more than outweighed by her personal advantages. I would soon discover that she was not shy about using the latter to forward her career. In particular it seemed to me that, in addition to allowing the attentions of a wealthy grocer and a member of the National Convention, she enjoyed a close relationship with Granger.
Her rival, in matters of the stage and of the heart, was Julie Morin, who had to be content with the parts Charlotte disdained. The other members of the cast seemed to stay for short periods of time, until they were able to secure employment in more distinguished establishments. I also met Citizen Lacoste, formerly the Marquis de Lacoste, now the prompter.
“Greetings and fraternity, beauteous young Citizen,” he said.
“A good day to you, Citizen Lacoste.”
“Congratulations. Granger did not waste any time in hiring you, I see.”
“He needed someone to replace Louise in a hurry.”
“No doubt. He must also have been impressed by your qualifications. Have you any experience as a seamstress?”
“I have sewn all of my life, but did not need to find work until I was widowed a year ago. The death of my husband left me in awkward circumstances.”
“You express yourself in such a graceful, polished way, my dear. What was your husband?”
“He was a cheese merchant, but I was educated in a convent before my parents lost their fortune.”
Lacoste arched his eyebrow. “It sounds like one of those stories one reads in novels. Very moving. Did you tell Granger about it? He could make a play of it.”
“I do not want it published. Citizen Granger was satisfied when he saw my Civic Certificate.” I looked straight at him. “What about you, Citizen Lacoste? I understand that you are a ci-devant Marquis.”
“Indeed. A great deal of good it did me under the Old Regime. The onset of the Revolution found me in the dungeons of Vincennes, where I had spent the last ten years thanks to a lettre de cachet obtained by my mother-in-law, who is without any doubt the ugliest and most vindictive sow in all of France.”
“Why did she request a lettre de cachet against you, Citizen Lacoste?”
He smiled. “With your permission, dear Citizen Labro, I will not tell you more until I know you better. The prejudices of old are not completely dead yet.”
Pierre-André’s reaction when I told him of my employment was what I had feared.
“What?” he asked, glaring at me. “You, a seamstress at the Théâtre du Marais? I put everything I have at risk for you, I support you, and you cannot think of anything better than to find work in a theatre, of all places! Why do you not ask for a part in the next play and go on stage, while you are at it? And for what, please? A few francs a week? Are you ready to risk your life for so little?”
“But I will be very cautious, my love. The spectators will not even be aware of my existence.”
“What about the actors, the manager, the stage hands? Are they ignorant of your existence?”
“They look like a decent lot and have no reason to suspect that I am an aristocrat. The manager was content with my Civic Certificate.” I smiled. “I happened to meet an acquaintance of yours there, Mademoiselle Tibaud. She is in all the plays.”
“Yes,” he said, “I know she works there. Dear Charlotte, there is no better creature in Paris. It is not on her account that I am worried.”
“Have you seen her lately?”
“A few months ago.”
I frowned.
“Do not look at me like this,” he said. “She came to see me after the disaster of Robert the Republican. Poor thing, she was afraid of being arrested. And the theatre was closed indefinitely. She was out of work.”
“The stage does not seem to be her only source of income.”
“Now, Gabrielle, is this a nice thing to say? You need not worry about her, my love. I helped her without any expectation of a reward.”
“How long did she remain your mistress?”
“I had been keeping her for about two years when I happened upon you
that day in 1788, at the guinguette by the river. It was quite a shock to see you, dressed like a fine lady, surrounded by your friends from the Court. I found a pretext to quarrel with Charlotte that very night. She certainly had done nothing to deserve it. She had been easily contented with what I could give her, while spurning the offers of far richer men. She had even agreed to dye her hair red to please me.” Pierre-André smiled. “I could not look at a woman without trying to find something of you in her.”
“Did you continue seeing Charlotte afterwards?”
“We remained friends, though there has not been any intimacy between us in years.”
“What happened when she came to you after the theatre was closed?”
“I promised to do whatever was in my power to have the theatre reopened and to keep her out of trouble. Only then did she offer to resume our old relations. It was purely out of gratitude for my help, mind you, not as an inducement before the fact. I thanked her and declined. I had already renewed my acquaintance with you then.” Pierre-André looked into my eyes. “And I do not wish to receive personal favours because of my function. I even refuse to see women I do not know in my chambers. It was only because of that concocted story of yours about documents in the Roman language that I accepted to receive you. As for Charlotte, she may not be a paragon of virtue, but she is harmless, if anything generous to a fault. I assisted her out of friendship. You should be the last person in the world to complain that I am so tender-hearted.”
“I am not complaining. I am only afraid that you will tire of me someday and leave me for another woman.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I would never abandon you, especially in your current circumstances. Speaking of which, will you please renounce that idiotic notion of working in a theatre, or anywhere else for that matter? Sew to your heart’s content, but do it from home without exposing yourself to unnecessary dangers.”
“I know that you are thinking only of my safety, but I am going out of my mind indoors all day long. Please, my love, let me take this place. I promise I will be cautious and give it up at the first sign of danger.”
He let go of me and shook his head in exasperation. “Go ahead, Gabrielle, act like a simpleton. But if you find yourself in trouble because of your stubbornness, do not expect any help from me.”
Truth be told, I missed the pleasures of society. Manon had found a place as a shop girl with a linen draper and I seldom saw her. Apart from Pierre-André’s visits at night, I barely had any contacts with other adults. So I became a seamstress at the Théâtre du Marais.
75
Under the Girondin government, the Nation was in shambles. The people lacked bread. The armies of the Republic were defeated. France was racked by civil war; the Prussians and Austrians on the eastern front threatened Paris. The Girondins hated the capital and the power of its Municipality. One of their leaders went so far as to publicly threaten the city with “annihilation.”
On the 22nd of June 1793, the Sections of Paris, inflamed by such language, marched on the Convention with the support of the National Guard, led by General Hanriot. Under the threat of Hanriot’s cannons, the Representatives voted to arrest their Girondin colleagues. The Jacobins, headed by Robespierre, took control of the National Convention. The former ministries were replaced by various Committees composed of Representatives. The most powerful was the Committee of Public Salvation, responsible for all matters concerning the survival of the Nation. It was led by Robespierre and his allies. The next in importance was the Committee of General Safety, in charge of the police.
The Jacobins inherited a disastrous situation. It was doubtful that France could survive as one Nation. Whenever I heard or read the phrase “The Republic, One and Indivisible,” I was reminded of the dangers faced by my unfortunate country, which traitors wanted crushed and divided. It was a time of national emergency. The mood was somber.
It became mandatory for all theatres to play patriotic works at least three times a week for the edification of the people. These shows were paid for by the Municipality and free of charge to the public. At the Théâtre du Marais, they attracted a more vocal, more poorly dressed crowd than the other nights, mostly sans-culottes and their women.
At first, Granger had set his sights upon a play titled The Pope in Hell. Charlotte had been given the part of a nun who, after spurning the offers of the Holy Father, threw her habit by the wayside to marry a virtuous patriot. The play had been cleared for public representation by the Municipality, but was soon withdrawn without any explanation in spite of its warm reception by the audience. I was not sorry to see the Pope fall into oblivion for I had hated sewing nun’s garments for Charlotte. Apart from the disrespect to the habit, they reminded me of Hélène. The château of Lalande, where she had for a while taken refuge, had changed hands several times in the course of the hostilities before being set ablaze by the Republican troops. Even Pierre-André, whom I had beseeched to try and save my sister, had been unable to find any trace of her.
At the theatre, The Pope in Hell was replaced by The Crimes of the Nobility, a work of similar literary merit. Charlotte now played a shepherdess whose father had been hanged under the Old Regime, thanks to fraudulent charges filed by the Marquis de la Turpitude. The Marquis had unspeakable designs on Charlotte, eventually thwarted by her rustic suitor. The denouement consisted in the thrashing of the Marquis by his former vassals. The audience gave a standing ovation and proceeded to sing in unison Ah ça ira, “Ah it’ll do”:
Ah it’ll do, it’ll do, it’ll do!
Let’s string the aristocrats from the lampposts.
Ah it’ll do, it’ll do, it’ll do!
The aristocrats we shall hang.
For three hundred years they’ve promised
To give us bread;
For three hundred years they’ve given parties
And kept whores;
For three hundred years they’ve crushed us;
Enough lies, enough words;
We don’t want to starve anymore.
The song hit close to home. I shuddered.
I complained to Lacoste of the new repertoire.
“Agreed,” he said, “the plays are not very good.”
“Not very good? They are dreadful.”
“From a literary standpoint, yes, but that is not what matters. They educate the people, they expose the impostures of religion. You have no idea, dear Citizen Labro, how strong the prejudices bred by superstition and fanaticism still are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look no further than the relations between the sexes. It is clear that all women belong to all men.”
“No, it is not clear to me at all. I have the good fortune to belong to no one.”
“It is wrong, my dear, very wrong. You ought to belong to any man who wants you.”
I raised my eyebrow.
“Yes,” he continued. “You forget, dear Citizen, that we are all born free and equal in rights.”
“What has it to do with me belonging to any man who wants me? Since I am free, I belong to no one but myself.”
“Oh, but we are not talking about the liberty of women here. What matters is equality between men. If you allege your liking for one man to decline the proposals of another, you violate the principle of equality.”
“Nonsense. I need not allege anything to decline anyone’s attentions. Do you really believe then that a woman has not only the right, but the duty to give herself to any man who requests her favours?”
“Absolutely, my dear.”
“What kind of liberty would I enjoy, if I could not use it to tell a man I dislike to go to hell?”
“Ah, but you would not do so for the sake of liberty. You would do it out of modesty. That despicable feeling is not found in nature. Look around: animals are not modest.”
“Maybe not, but we are not animals. Your opinions, Citizen Lacoste, reflect the most absolute contempt for the rights of women.”
“
Women must not be selfish. They should subject themselves to the wishes of any man who fancies them. If I had my way, the law would establish houses of prostitution where any man could summon, by force if need be, any woman he likes to satisfy his wishes. I further contend that such rule should apply regardless of the age of the woman.”
I stared at him. “Even if she were a child?”
“Even so. Even is she were the man’s daughter or sister.”
“So you are a proponent of incest?”
“Absolutely, if a man wishes to practice it. One of the greatest achievements of the Revolution is the abolition of all so-called religious crimes, such as incest, sodomy, blasphemy and adultery. Marriage, in my opinion, should be outlawed. It is nothing but a form of servitude.”
“This is the only point on which we agree. One thing you should know. If such a system as the one you advocate were in effect to allow any woman to summon any man anywhere, I would never avail myself of it with regard to you.”
He laughed. “So I feared, my dear. That is why it would be far better the other way around.”
I doubted that Lacoste would have put his ideas into practice and found his opinions outrageous enough to be entertaining. I nevertheless made sure Aimée never strayed close to him. Maybe the sole reason why I tolerated, and even enjoyed the company of the ci-devant Marquis de Lacoste was that his manners faintly reminded me of the graceful world of the Old Regime, now departed beyond any hope of return.
Lacoste never made improper gestures towards me. I was less at ease with Granger, the manager, who never missed an opportunity to bend over my shoulder while I was sewing.
Mistress of the Revolution: A Novel Page 47
